


you’re the sanctuary

by redhairtaeyong (golden_thoughts)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Like, M/M, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, almost made this markhyuck but i done that, anyways appreciate some maknae stress times with supportive chenle, but your dentist definitely won’t be angry, im sorry jisung ily i promise, lightly fluffy, stan joji, technically, you will sense a faint taste of sugar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_thoughts/pseuds/redhairtaeyong
Summary: jisung and chenle slow dance in the dark.
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 11
Kudos: 99





	you’re the sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> no kithes or spicy times here, just warm hugs and a lot of tears. might be somewhat inaccurate bc I originally was thinking of markhyuck but halfway i was like nah and thought it’d make sense if it was the sweet lil maknae. 
> 
> please, take care of yourself always, one day you’ll find someone who will slow dance in the dark with you, but for now, hold yourself and allow yourself to give yourself the love you so desperately deserve.

The dance practice room is cold at night during this time of year.

No amount of heavy, intense dancing will warm the wooden floors, but these days, the cool feeling eases the never-ending headache that pounds against Jisung’s skull.

It’s sharp and hot, all the time, and sometimes he can’t see, can’t hear, can’t breathe. It scares him, but only sometimes, because really he’s just scared of not being scared. 

Sometimes he thinks about dying, and the headache feels like a punishment from hell, a calling to follow through with his thoughts.

But other times, when he’s so desperately craving life, when he just wants to be a human who can love and breathe, he cries, and on nights like this, when the sun has set too early and the street lamps are broken and the floor feels as cold and sad as his heart, Jisung just wants someone to cry with him.

He hears a song start on the speakers, a little more quiet, a little softer, and he appreciates the calm background noise.

He curls up, cold, his short-sleeved shirt stained with sweat provides little warmth, and his heart rate stopped racing ages ago, it only slows now, hiccups, even, like its indecisive on whether it’ll keep beating or not.

Jisung can hear the pings of different people who care about him, but his phone is across the room, and he can convince himself that if he’s far enough away from them, if he just doesn’t pick them up ever again, maybe they’ll learn to stop caring about him, too.

He’s crying again-god, what an inconvenience.

He just wants  someone.

_I don’t wanna slow dance_

_In the dark_

The song climaxes and he lets out a sob that’s too loud, too broken, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

But it’s too late, he’s been found.

A corpse dug out of its grave, he thinks.

Chenle runs to him, and the beating footsteps step up Jisung’s own heartbeat and he gasps for air.

He’s panicking now, and the headache is stabbing against his head and oh god, oh god, this is it, he’s going to die, he’s going to die alone and cold and he never even told everyone he still loved them,  fuck, everything hurts-

Chenle holds him.

His mind is still going a million miles a minute, and he’s hurting everywhere but the thoughts are turning cloudy against Chenle’s warmth, and the pain is turning into an acute soreness that doesn’t feel like a bleeding wound.

He doesn’t recognize when he starts sitting up, but soon he realizes he’s halfway in Chenle’s lap, and he’s stroking his hair while he whispers soft and loving things that ache in a real way.

“Lele, Lele, I’m so sorry-“ he cries, the first coherent words he’s said this entire time, and his throat feels raw and scratched up and he blames it on the sobbing but Chenle doesn’t seem to mind, the older just shushes him, saying more loving things that Jisung can’t handle.

They stay there for minutes, hours, maybe years, and Jisung realizes he wouldn’t mind spending his life in Chenle’s arms if it meant he’d finally stop hurting so deeply.

Eventually, though, anxiety pushes against his throat because of all the unsaid things, and his skin crawls uncomfortably because he’s covered in tears and sweat and the remains of his panic attack.

“Lele...” He tries, voice weak.

“You’re okay baby, you don’t have to say anything.” Chenle says back, automatically, like it’s a mantra he needs Jisung to learn.

“I’m sorry.” He tries again.

“You have no reason to say sorry, Sungie.” Chenle says, and Jisung desperately wants to believe it.

“Lele, I think I want to die, sometimes.” Jisung says, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way Chenle stiffens, the hand in his hair freezing.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, Jisung, oh god, I’m so sorry, I should’ve known, we can tell Taeyong tomorrow, o-or Jeno, if you’re too uncomfortable, I’m so-“ Chenle says, quickly, far too quickly for Jisung’s rattled mind.

“Please don’t say sorry.” He whispers.

Chenle takes in a shaky breath, “Okay, but I promise you I’m gonna get you help baby, I swear.” 

Jisung wants to argue, wants to fight because wasn’t telling one person enough? He isn’t sure he could go through all this again, especially with someone else, someone who wasn’t Chenle.

But instead he just lies in his arms for a little longer, just enough so that he can feel his own limbs again.

He looks around, noticing the haphazardly thrown bag on the floor by the door, his phone, still lit up with messages, and the music still playing.

His playlist must have glitched, or, he really stayed in Chenle’s arms long enough that it repeated, because the song from earlier is playing again.

_I don’t want a friend_

_I want my life in two_

Chenle pulls him up on request, but they’re still imbalanced. 

Jisung isn’t really standing, just softly leaning against Chenle and badly balancing on his legs.

He feels weak, and Chenle looking at him gently only makes him feel weaker.

He takes a tentative step, but when Chenle places a hand on his waist to steady him, he finds himself going to hug the older instead.

The hug isn’t refused, more so accepted with enthusiasm, and Jisung isn’t ashamed, for once.

The music is reaching the chorus, and-curse his musicality-he starts swaying to it.

Chenle giggles quietly against his shoulder, moving in time with him.

Theyre moving beautifully, there’s a dance unspoken and he hates that it’s like this, that his best work comes from his worst hurt, that he forced Chenle to sit through it with him, he doesn’t want to be here, slow dancing in the dark room, but the shining moon through the window convinces him that, for now, it’s okay to take the love people offer.

Especially Chenle’s.

Chenle knows this song, Jisung notices, and he remembers that’s why he added it to his playlist.

It ends quickly, sadly, and Jisung feels empty without a melody in his veins.

Chenle takes him to his phone, though, and puts in another song by the same artist.

It reminds him of space. Sanctuary, it’s called.

_Go ahead and bark, after dark_

_I’m your one call away_

Jisung likes space.

As a kid, he dreamed about flying with astronauts, because every kid wanted to fly eventually.

And then as he grew, he just wanted to float amongst the stars, because he’d finally feel safe in the bright little nothings, because they manage to be everything all the same.

The song reaches its chorus.

_If you’ve been waiting, for falling in love_

_Babe, you don’t have to wait in me_

_Cause I’ve been aiming for heaven above_

_But an angel ain’t what I need_

Chenle reminds him of the stars.

_You’re the sanctuary_

Jisung realizes with a startling breath, that in this moment, he’s reached his dream.

_So hold me oh so close, cause you never know_

_Just how long our lives will be_

Jisung lets out a laugh against Chenle’s head, and it’s still a little broken at the edges, but it’s full, and it fills him with warmth, running up and down his spine.

Chenle looks up at him then, smiling, like he shares the same realization with Jisung.

Jisung holds him a little tighter, strength filling him up for the first time in too long.

He whispers into Chenle’s hair, “I love you.”

Chenle nods, and squeezes him.

It’s not a return of the words, but Jisung doesn’t need that right now. He doubts he’d be able to believe it.

Instead, he just nods back, and keeps swaying.

The dance practice room is cold a night during this time of year.

But here, slow dancing in the dark, caught up in someone’s arms, Jisung feels warmer than he’d ever feel under the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> comment if y’all liked this or if you didn’t I thrive off of attention >:(
> 
> also actually how bout y’all give me prompts i want ideas
> 
> preferably oneshots or short fics bc that’s all my attention span of two minutes can handle.
> 
> you are allowed to love yourself. you are allowed to get help. you are worth something in this world, and I hope you find the people who will make you believe it soon.


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